Here I am pumping those hips.

"A true friend stabs you in the front"---Oscar Wilde.

I would like to think that I have the magical power to learn a valuable lesson or take something good out of the grotesque and horrific, yet sickeningly amusing, day I've had which will most likely be labled "The Worst Day of My Life, For Serious"...unless either of my parents die or their house catches fire with all my stuff in their basement or my car explodes with me in it. I would actaully describe this day as being something akin to pineapple-eating Nazis, because that is the most stomach-churning thing I can think of, no matter how hot Nazis may look in movies.

The lesson I have potentially learned is to respect my friends...the ones I have left...the ones that I know actually love and care about me. I'm going to treat those stupid, filthy, sons-of-bitches like GOLD from now on BECAUSE: I am now a strict believer of the 'do unto others as you would have them to to you' policy. No one (not NO ONE...just some of the people I need to do it) seems to want to take the time, lazy lame-asses, to step into my kicks and take the few seconds required to consider how I might be feeling. So I wonder, "Do I do the same where others are concerned?". Well, I flippin' do now, you better believe it! My feelings are being disregarded and squashed left and right like a grape or an eyeball, if you're feeling all gore-ish, and I don't want to be responsible for making ANYONE that I care about or have the nerve to call "my friend" feel small or crushed or heartbroken. I want to be able to be counted on and trusted and respected. If you call me your friend and I have recently wronged you, just know...I feel pretty damn bad about it.

QUOTE OF THE DAY: Heartless. You and I are going to find a new group that doesn't know ________. I am not going to let people keep rubbing this in your face, Assholes. ---one of the most wise people I know (and adore).

And now for a moment of surliness: there are about a bazillion available people on this planet. Why does everyone feel the need to dip their toes in the same pond and then rub the burning muck in your eyes over and over? That's what I want to know because it shocks the Hell out of me. And if we reference the above life lesson, I think that I must have done something really horrific to a certain broad who shall remain nameless because she certainly is curently feeding me something despicable. I guess that's what you get for trying to be supportive and letting someone cry on your shoulders in the past. You get the sharp shaft of reality shoved up your ass.

End surliness and begin realism.

You can't trust anyone, and that's a sad fact.

If you DO trust people, they end up doing hurtful things... I'm sure I've been there as well. And the 4 fools that I do trust most in the world, well, they are a scattered bunch, not by any fault of their own. With one in Columbus, one in Detroit, one who leads a mega-busy life (and has her own compliacted life issues) and one who hears far too much about my broken blood-pumper and rotting will...it's hard to get that one-on-one, face-to-face, "can we make with the love just so I don't have to feel like THIS" kind of comforting. Plus, I don't dig "the muff". Girls are more of a headache than guys, this I know first hand because I, myself, have a vagina.

So allow me to reiterate again and hopefully for the last time...I am hurting and having a hard time. This will probably continue on for awhile considering I just RECENTLY had my knees kicked out from under me once again. Please put yourself in my situation and gauge how you would react if all this rubbish happened to you...I bet you wouldn't be so hasty to just brush me off. Or maybe you would...in which case you are a total jerkoff. But I bet you'd see that my reactions are totally normal and that, all in all, I'm dealing with it all pretty well and deserve a high five and not the boot.

And to the people who have recently been my support system and totally back me up and say I have every right to feel like garbage and every right to say my mind is blown and every right to just flip my mutha-truckin' lid: I love you and would like to have all of your babies. I will name them after different kinds of sharks. Woot! Woot!

I promise to toughen up.

Just call me Beatrix Kiddo.

She kicked the shit out of everyone in town and still cried tears of joy in the end.